Drawn (17 page)

Damien reaches out and grabs his arm, twisting it uncomfortably, whispering close to his ear. I can’t hear what he says, but the guy’s face goes as white as a sheet before he rapidly makes his retreat.

“What did you say?” I ask
, as he pulls me against him.

“I told him it’s not nice to try and snipe another man’s woman,” he informs me with a grin, just before he takes my mouth in his, swaying with me to the music, our bodies pressed up against each other as our lips lock. It’s so erotic that my body screams out for him to touch me more intimately.

His hands slide over my body, cupping my butt firmly in his strong hands, pressing me against him. I can feel his need for me growing between our bodies as we melt into one another. His hands slide down, to the bare skin on my thighs, skimming under my dress and back up to my arse.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Lace panties,” I reply.

“We should
have a rule about underwear,” he says in my ear.

“You’re the only one who was ever
going to see them,” I murmur.

A grin creeps over his face as his hands move either side of my face, pushing my hair back as he looks into my eyes intently.

“What is this?” he asks suddenly. “This thing between us.”

“I don’t know
,” I reply, “But it feels like everything.”

“Everything,” he repeats,
just as his mouth meets mine.

“I’m sorry I ruined your fight,” I say, as Damien walks me to my door. Kensi and Jessica are already inside. Actually, they’re spying on Damien and me through the window while they share a tube of Pringles.

“No
, you’re not,” he chuckles, taking me by the hand and pulling me to the side of the house, out of the sight of my prying roommates.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I whisper, tilting my head up toward him, holding my mouth a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Then don’t,” he returns, letting his lips brush lightly against my own.

His eyes darken as he moves toward me, holding out his hand for me to take. He pulls me toward him, and my hands fly up to brace myself as our bodies collide.

Holding me firmly against his body, he dips his head, taking my mouth in his. Every single cell in my body sings in joy as euphoric feelings swirl within me, increasing my want – my need – of this man.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss
and bends his knees, picking me up over his shoulder. Squealing, I kick my legs. “I’m taking you with me,” he informs me, as he deposits me in his car, leaning in to kiss me as he clips me in safely.

“We could just stay here. I haven’t even slept in my new room yet.”

“Your bed is too small.”

“Last night, we slept on top of each other – we don’t need that much space,” I point out.

“Are you always going to argue with me?” he asks, as he starts the car and pulls away from the curb.

“Are you always just going to do whatever suits you?” I return.

“Yes,” he grins.

“Then yes, I’m going to argue.”

His apartment is even closer to my new place than my parent’s house is, so we’re there in less than five minutes.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he offers as we enter his apartment
, and he drops his keys on the bench. I lean against the front door, watching him move about. Without waiting for my answer, he takes out two glasses and fills them with cold water from the fridge. “Here.”

He stands in front of me, watching as I take the glass and drink down the water. I don’t know why, but
the way he watches me, makes me very warm. As soon as I’ve finished, he takes the glass from me, brushing his fingers against mine as he drinks his own water. My breathing quickens as I watch him in return. I feel like I’m a deer, caught in headlights. I can’t stop watching and waiting.

Placing
the two glasses on the table beside us, he entwines his hands with mine, moving his fingers sensuously against my own. Slowly, his hands travel the length of my arms, and up over my shoulders, causing my skin to prick as his fingertips brush lightly against my skin until he’s cupping my face either side, his fingers sliding into my hair as he smooths his thumbs against my cheeks.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes travelling over my face like he’s studying every curve and hollow – every line. “I just…want to kiss you. Nothing more.”

His mouth closes over mine as I willingly part my lips, granting him entry, moaning as his tongue slides over mine. My hands travel up to his waist and under his shirt. I’ve been making out with him all night, and I want to feel his skin. My body wants more. I want more.

Pressing against him, I feel his own need for me growing and pressing into me. My hands pull, and my fingers curl into his skin, bringing us closer, as I moan and move against him, loving
every deep sound that escapes his throat. His hands drop from my face and reach down to grip my butt, pulling me even closer.

Pulling at his shirt, I lift it up, urging him to take it off. Dropping it on the table beside us, I run my fingers all over his bare chest, loving every bit of his soft skin as my hands travel over the hard planes of his body.

Breathing heavily, he drops his face, breaking our kiss and pressing our foreheads together. His hand still rests on my arse cheek, and I slide my hands down to his, pulling him back against me.

“I think we should get some sleep,” he murmurs, causing my heart to drop with a thud into my stomach as he steps out of my reach. “I’ll get you a towel and something to sleep in.”

I can’t even move right now. We’ve just gone from being all hot and heavy to getting ready for bed, and it’s taking me a moment to let the whole situation sink in.

Once again, he turns the shower on for me, and leaves me with a towel and a t-shirt. I shower quickly, and wrap myself in the towel, frustrated that he isn’t responding to my advances, wondering if I’m doing something wrong.

Realising I don’t have a toothbrush with me, I open the medicine cabinet, hoping to find a spare one in there. Lucky, I do. He has one of those five packs of Colgate toothbrushes sitting in there. There are two toothbrushes remaining, and I can’t help but wonder who used the other three. It wasn’t him. He has an electric one.

Jealousy swirls within my stomach as I vigorously brush at my teeth. I try to tell myself that it isn’t important, that it doesn’t matter. But he said that he didn’t sleep with people. Why then, are there toothbrushes here? That seems like he has regular sleep overs to me. As I spit the foam down the sink, I decide I want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t like the way he’s making me feel.

Pulling the door open, I stomp into the bedroom, holding up the toothbrush. “I just used this one. Do you have a marker so I can write my name on it? I wouldn’t want any of the other people, that packet of toothbrushes is there for, to mix their spit up with mine.”

“What?” he responds, his brow knitted tightly in confusion as he stands up from the bed, now shirtless and wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. I have to force myself to focus on my anger, or else I might just run over to him and wrap my arms around his body, just to feel his skin against mine. 

“I thought you didn’t have sleepovers.” I glare at him, gulping as he strides toward me, while I still hold the toothbrush up as my evidence.

Taking it from my hand, he walks past me, into the bathroom and over to the vanity, placing the toothbrush inside the rinsing cup. He then opens the mirrored cabinet and removes the packet containing the last remaining toothbrush and turns back to face me, leani
ng his weight against the bench top.

“This has been in there for a while you know. When I bought it, there were five – all different colours.” He sets the package aside and holds out his hand, counting on his fingers. “They were blue, green, and orange. You chose the purple one, which just leaves the pink one. If these were here for my ‘sleep overs’ – as you put it – then don’t you think the girl colours would be gone?”

My face drops as I realise what an idiot I’ve just been. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just… the thought of you and other women is kind of making me crazy. Especially when…”

“When what?”

“When you’re refusing me.”

He stands up from the vanity and strides over to me, sliding his hands either side of my face and tilting my head up toward him, so we’re staring directly into each other’s eyes.

“I want you so badly Henrietta. I’m struggling to control myself. But I have to. Because once I have you, I am never going to let you go. I need to make sure you’re ready for that.”

“What if I told you I am? What if I told you that
I
can’t let
you
go?”

He runs his fingers through my wet hair, tucking the damp strands behind my ear, his eyes soft as they wander over me as I lean against the doorframe, still wrapped in only a towel. “Not yet Henrietta. Not yet,” he whispers, pressing his lips against mine, igniting the fire inside me all over again.

My arms curl around him, and I pull him against me, absorbing his hardness into my softness. Despite his protests, he grows instantly hard. I press my thigh against it, delighting when he releases a groan into my mouth. He shifts his weight slightly, and I take his hand, guiding it between my legs.

My other hand slides down his bac
k, gripping onto his arse cheek as I pull him closer still, rocking my body against his, rubbing myself with his hand. I can feel his fingers twitching – he can’t stay passive for much longer.

“Stop,” he growls, panting as he pulls his mouth and hand away from mine.

“Please,” I beg, taking his hand, damp with my juices again and pressing it between my thighs. “Just give me this.” I gasp, clinging to him, grinding against him, completely lost in my need to be near him.

“Oh god,” he groans, his own body moving against mine. “You’re going to make this happen too soon. Oh… fuck.
” He pulls his hand away again. My heart jumps with disappointment but instead of stopping, he reaches his hands up and pulls my towel open, taking a long look at my body as he exposes me. “Jesus Etta, just look at you. You’re making me crazy.” 

“I want this. I need you
Damien,” I whisper, sliding my hand down his torso until I reach the tent in his boxers, gripping his shaft, long, thick and rock hard, rubbing my hand up and down it. He lets out a slow breath as I work him with my hand, moaning and whimpering as my pleasure builds.

“Touch me,” I whisper. “I want you. I need you. Touch me.” I’m begging him, the need inside me seems too all-encompassing. I don’t want to wait.

His breathing quickens as I slide my hand up and down his shaft, and he gives in to me, slipping his hand between my thighs, rubbing between my folds, circling my engorged clit as I grind against him, desperate for release.

“
Etta, we need to stop this. We aren’t ready,” he murmurs, as his fingers move inside me, slipping back out, wet and slick to caress my sensitive nub.

“I am ready,” I gasp. “I don’t want to stop this. I’m so close…oh god!” I explode, lights flashing behind my eyes as I throw my head back a
nd moan, bucking against his hand, my own hand gripping his cock firmly.

“Fuck. Etta.” he moans, as he shudders against me, dropping his head into the crook of my neck, breathing me in, softly kissing my flesh, his arms wrapping around my body holding me against him.

Gasping, my chest filling with emotion as we just stand together in the doorway, clinging to each other. I slide my arms up his back and rake my fingertips through his hair soothingly, kissing his temple, wondering how the hell this is happening. I know I’m inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but this… this is something else. My chest literally aches, and I can’t move. I can’t stop holding him.

Eventually, he reaches his hands beneath my buttocks and lifts me off the floor. Normally, I’d squeal if something like this happened to me – I’m not the lightest girl in the world – but he does it with such ease, and there’s an intensity in him that’s sucking me into his aura, making this a very serious moment.

We don’t speak as he carries me into the bathroom and reaches over to turn on the shower again. He somehow manages to remove his boxers while still holding me, then steps us both into the shower, pulling the curtain with a sweep of his arm.

He aims us underneath the spray and lowers me down so I’m standing in front of him. Our eyes lock as he reaches for the shower soap and a sponge. He starts from my sho
ulders and works his way down, getting on his knees to make sure that every part of me is covered in suds.

He then positions me under the jet stream as he quickly soaps over his own body before joining me under the spray. I stand there as he rinses me off, as if I’m unable to do it for myself, somehow knowing that this is exactly what he wants from me.

When he’s satisfied that we’re clean, he switches off the water and steps out of the tub before reaching out and taking me by the waist. I place my hands on his shoulders and bend my legs up as he lifts me out and places me on the floor mat in front of him.